


touched by magic

by TooSel



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooSel/pseuds/TooSel
Summary: In a world where love creates magic, Mike is hopelessly infatuated, Harvey isn’t a fan (or is he?), and sometimes, just sometimes, miracles happen when they’re needed.
Relationships: Mike Ross/Harvey Specter
Comments: 24
Kudos: 85





	touched by magic

**Author's Note:**

> “Anyone who has loved has been touched by magic. It is such a simple and such an extraordinary part of the lives we live.” - Nora Roberts
> 
> This fic contains graphic depictions of an injury, for those who are faint of heart. Nothing too gruesome in my opinion, but I thought I'd mention it.

Mike bristles at the fallen leaves dancing before him on the sidewalk, stepping around the kissing couple they’re orbiting.

It’s a beautiful dance, the crispy, golden-brown leaves complementing the woman’s hair and the man’s coat, but they’re blocking his way with their performative little goodbye and he is already late for work as it is.

Harvey is going to kill him if he shows up late again.

A few chestnuts bounce up from the sidewalk at the thought, hopping up and down. Mike kicks them out of the way impatiently.

“You’re late,” Harvey greets him when he stumbles into his office with fifteen seconds to spare and his scarf still wound around his neck (no time for vanities).

Mike glares at him as he rips it off, swallowing the remark on the tip of his tongue. The papers Harvey has spread around his desk stay perfectly still, undisturbed by the breeze following him through the open door or anything more… complicated.

Of course, given that Harvey has chosen to be a total dickhead once again this morning, Mike didn’t expect anything else.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that he’s in love with this man.

*

Sometimes it’s so goddamn hard to forget that he’s in love with this man.

Sure, Harvey can be infuriating, condescending as hell, and the most insufferable smug bastard Mike has ever met, but he can also be… gentle. Kind, when he wants to be. When he cares about someone.

He’d never admit to that, of course, and Mike knows better than to bring it up (except when he’s in a particularly good mood and he can tell he’ll let him get away with it).

He still knows, though.

Harvey makes the leaves dance too sometimes. He lets extra milk foam appear on their coffees when Mike does something particularly clever. He makes the doors open for Jessica when she leaves his office after making him laugh.

There are traces of Harvey’s magic everywhere, all the time. Even if they’re hard to catch. Even if he likes to pretend he doesn’t _care_.

He never says it, but Mike doesn’t need him to in order to pick up on it, to _know_.

Oh, how he knows it.

The lights flicker in his apartment, and Mike groans and runs a hand over his face, trying his hardest to not think about Harvey anymore, to forget how goddamn fond he feels when he catches the little signs of his magic.

He’s not very successful, but that’s alright. He’s used to that by now.

*

“Another murder last weekend,” Harvey mutters as he skims the headlines.

Mike looks up from the stack of files he’s bent over and, despite already knowing the answer, asks, “Oh? What happened?”

Harvey huffs. “What do you think? Committed out of love, of course.”

Of course.

He wouldn’t have read it out loud if it were something else.

Mike makes a noncommittal sound. “How’d he do it? Or she, I suppose?”

Harvey narrows his eyes as he reads through the article before making a quiet, disgusted sound.

“He found his wife in bed with another guy. Made her braids fall off and strangled them both with them.”

“That’s… brutal.”

“Yeah, well. That’s love for you.”

Mike pinches his lips, throwing him a glance. “Some would say it’s a force for good,” he offers lightly. “That there’s something beautiful about love of all kinds being the source of our magic.”

Harvey shakes the newspaper once to straighten it as he keeps reading, clearly not impressed by what he has to say.

“And yet it keeps being used for evil,” is all he remarks.

“But it’s not intended for evil,” Mike argues before he can stop himself.

At that, Harvey finally looks up.

“It’s not intended for anything, Mike. It just is. And people will keep disabusing their powers and do terrible things with it because that’s who they are at their core. There’s no point in romanticizing this odd little trick human beings can do when things like that gruesome murder are the reality of it.”

Human beings. Like he isn’t one of them.

“Right,” Mike mutters, forcing himself to focus on the file before him again with little success.

Some days, when he says things like that, he isn’t so sure that he actually is.

*

So Harvey isn’t a fan of magic. Or rather, he’s not a fan of love.

Fine. That’s fair.

He’s probably even less of a fan when it’s directed at him from Mike’s side, though that’s just a guess on his part. So far he’s been able to more or less hide the real extent of it, or divert his attention when he couldn’t.

Emphasis on so far.

The thing is, it’s been getting increasingly harder to conceal lately, and Mike has little hope that this development will reach its natural end soon. Or, even better, revert entirely.

Yeah, tough luck.

It’s fine. He’s got it under control, at least for now. And maybe, hopefully, Harvey doesn’t suspect anything. Maybe he’ll keep on thinking that the little outbursts of magic around them are a sign of Mike’s platonic affection for him, the kind of love you feel for a good friend rather than someone you want to do… much less platonic things with.

He’s never said anything, and Mike has never let on that he’s not exactly as straight as Harvey seems to believe, so maybe he’s in the clear. Maybe Harvey won’t catch on that there’s something else happening right under his nose, something he’d be so appalled by that Mike doesn’t even want to imagine him finding out.

Well, with a bit of luck he’ll never have to.

Harvey probably won’t even consider it, since he doesn’t _want_ Mike to love him that way.

Yeah, because _that_ makes everything _so_ much better.

*

“That. Was. Incredible.”

Harvey chuckles as he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets, following him down the stairs of the courthouse.

“Can’t argue with that.”

“We totally obliterated them! They had no idea what hit them. Did you see their faces? It was amazing.”

He knows it’s getting ridiculous, but Mike just can’t stop grinning, the adrenaline of their win in court still drumming in his veins, making everything seem extremely sharp and bright around them.

Harvey is smiling too, equally pleased, though he doesn’t let it on as much. Mike still knows, though. He always knows.

“It was. _You_ were amazing in there, Mike. This is more your win than ours.”

Mike glances at him in surprise. “That’s… not true, but I’m certainly not complaining if that’s how you wanna frame it.”

Harvey shakes his head. “False modesty doesn’t suit you. Just take yes for an answer and enjoy your moment. God knows when it’ll come again.”

Mike snorts despite the warm flutter in his stomach. “Charming. Thanks, I guess.”

Harvey just continues smiling, making the flutter ten times worse in an instant with the little dimple appearing on his cheek and the calm and relaxed air surrounding him as they walk. Mike rarely gets to see him like this, and certainly not because of something _he_ did, which in itself is… a little dizzying, to put it mildly.

How easy it is sometimes, to feel so alive. It’s all the little things, coming together in perfect harmony every once in a while for one incredible moment, outstanding as it is fleeting, and more than anything, Mike wishes that he could make it last just a little longer.

His eyes snap up when Harvey asks, “What’s the rest of your day like? We could stop by that little pastry shop two blocks from here if you’re not in a rush. They have the most amazing cinnamon rolls.”

Mike is sure that’s true, but he doesn’t really care if the cinnamon rolls are actually outstanding or just mediocre, more focused on the fact that Harvey clearly feels the same way he does, that he’s not ready to let this moment come to an untimely end.

It’s the little things, indeed.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, and before he can stop himself adds, “It’s a date.”

“Great,” is all Harvey gives back, leading the way, and Mike hurries to follow, the pronounced beating of his heart so captivating that he doesn’t even notice the warm, heavy smell of cinnamon weaving through the crisp autumn air around them.

He only realizes what he’s been doing (and that _he’s_ the one doing it) when Harvey throws him a glance that speaks volumes, though nothing he particularly wants to hear in that moment.

Struggling to come up with an explanation, Mike goes with the first thing that pops into his head.

“I just… really love cinnamon rolls,” he says breathlessly.

Harvey blinks at him, then shakes his head. “I didn’t know you were such a cinnamon fan,” he says. “You struck me as more of a vanilla type.”

If Harvey had suggested grabbing vanilla lattes or something of the like, he’s sure that would have been true.

“I’m a fan of many things,” he mutters, lifting his shoulders to bury his nose in his scarf.

It’s futile, of course. The cinnamon scent gets through the fabric easily, clinging to his clothes and the strands of his hair, continuing to follow him around for the rest of the day.

*

Mike startles when the romantic tune that’s been playing around him since Harvey stopped by to drop off some files and a coffee he ‘thought he could use’ is interrupted by Donna’s voice, surprisingly close to his ear.

“Is someone in love?”

“What? No. What makes you think that?”

She straightens when he swivels his chair, crossing her arms with a lifted eyebrow. “ _Your Song_ has been playing in here for the past twenty minutes. Try again.”

“Maybe I just really love Elton John,” he argues, which isn’t technically a lie. Donna just huffs.

“Please. You can’t fool me, Mike. Who do you take me for? Besides, it’s obvious.”

“No, it’s not.” He pauses, swallowing. “Is it?”

Donna just pats his hand with a sympathetic smile, which is answer enough.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath. “Do you think… I mean, is it-“

“Obvious to him? Oh, come on,” she says at the alarmed look he throws her. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, Mike. Wanna take a wild guess who’s usually around when your little outbursts happen? They’re really cute, by the way.”

Groaning, Mike runs a hand over his face. “They’re not _cute_ , they’re annoying. And inconvenient. And they’re going to give me away one of these days. To him, I mean.”

“For what it’s worth, he seems pretty oblivious so far. God knows how,” she adds, shaking her head.

Mike just gives her a look. “Thanks for that.” He sighs. “I wish I could control them.”

Donna lifts her shoulders. “No one can.”

“Harvey does,” he points out. “It’s either that, or he doesn’t feel love that way. Not for anyone here, at least.”

He looks up when she scoffs.

“Believe me, he does. And he makes magic just like the rest of us. Just because he’s better at keeping his emotions in check around here doesn’t mean he can control them.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he mutters. He _has_ seen proof of it, of course, so he knows she’s got a point, but it’s still beyond frustrating to have to look for the signs with a magnifying glass on Harvey’s side, while the ones on his own are there for everyone and their goddamn mother to see.

Except for Harvey. So far.

“Hey.” Donna leans against his desk, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Chin up, puppy. I don’t think this situation is as hopeless as you believe.”

“How is it not hopeless?”

She shrugs. “Harvey isn’t the emotionless robot he wants everyone to think he is. Especially not when it comes to you.”

Mike narrows his eyes. “Are you saying… that he could reciprocate those feelings. That he could. You know. Fall in love with me?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Because! I mean, that’s… ridiculous.” Mike frowns. “Harvey has never shown interest in a guy before.”

Donna snorts. “Uh, yes, he has. Trust me.”

Mike gives her a doubtful look, but she just offers a secretive smile in response.

He huffs. Fine.

“Okay, whatever. Even if he _could_ feel that way… I just don’t think he does.”

“Hm.”

“That’s- not helpful.”

“I’m getting the feeling that you don’t want me to be helpful. You just want to wallow in your self-pity and call it a lost cause.”

Mike crosses his arms, but doesn’t disagree.

“Look,” Donna says, nudging him with her knee. “Whether Harvey sees it or not, and I really do think he does or he never would have chosen you in the first place, you’re a great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you love them with so much devotion. And look at all those sweet little things you’ve created because of how you feel. Even if it were hopeless, that still couldn’t be anything other than a good thing, could it? Bringing more beauty, more joy into the world… it counts for something.”

“Yeah,” Mike admits reluctantly, dropping his arms. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I know. I always am.”

She gets up with a wink to head for the door, smiling over her shoulder when he chuckles.

“Hey,” he says, nodding his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Oh!”

She stops in her tracks when a flower appears before her; the magnolia her perfume smells of, a second glance reveals. She takes it, tracing the petals with her finger.

“Thanks, Mike.”

He lets out a soft laugh, his chest warm and cozy with his affection for her. “Yeah. Anytime.”

*

“Hey honey, I’m home.”

Harvey looks up from his file when Mike strides in and drops on his sofa, raising an eyebrow. “And what time do you call this?”

His expression betrays nothing, but he closes the file he was reading, so Mike can tell that he’s pleased to see him too.

“I know, I know. I was planning on getting back an hour ago, but at least I come bearing good news.”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Well? Pray tell.”

Diving straight into a recount of his morning, Mike tries to quash the tingling in his stomach at the way Harvey looks at him while he listens, the smile never quite leaving his face.

“Sounds like a very successful meeting,” he says when he’s finished, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, totally. Man, but I’m _starving_ now. I haven’t even had time to grab a cereal bar for breakfast.”

Harvey snorts softly. “You’re always starving.”

“Am not,” Mike argues. “God. I could really use something chocolaty right now though. Like, double chocolate. Or triple.”

Harvey lifts an eyebrow. “What are you, a child?”

“Oh, come on. Like you can age out of craving chocolate.”

“I did.”

“You absolutely didn’t. Don’t think I don’t know about the secret stash you keep in your desk drawer.”

Harvey throws him a suspicious look, but doesn’t disagree. “If I ever catch you going through my stuff, you won’t know what hit you,” he threatens.

“I didn’t have to go through your stuff. Just had a little chat with a confidential source, that’s all.”

“I should fire Donna for this,” Harvey mutters, and Mike snorts.

“It wasn’t Donna,” he informs him cheekily. “It was Jessica. Good luck firing _her_.”

“Jessica?” Harvey huffs, shaking his head. “I don’t like this new dynamic of you two conspiring against me. I think I preferred it when she hated your guts.”

“Wow. You’re so mean.”

Harvey just smiles cantingly.

“Alright, well.” Clasping his hands together, Mike gets to his feet. “I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna go and find something to satisfy my cravings now.”

“Yeah, go and be a child,” Harvey mutters, returning his attention to his folder with a fond smile.

Before Mike can do just that, he stops short, something catching his eye.

“Oh. What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh.” Glancing up, Harvey looks caught for a split second before he has his features under control again. “Well, looks like you’re in luck.”

Mike blinks at the cupcake that appeared before him – triple chocolate, if he had to guess – and then up at Harvey.

“I’m… flattered. And definitely not saying no to this.”

Harvey rolls his eyes, not quite meeting Mike’s afterwards. “Don’t read too much into it.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

“Seriously.”

“Yeah, no, I get it. You make sweet treats appear out of thin air for everyone.”

“Good god,” Harvey mutters.

Mike sucks in his lip, poorly concealing his smile. “Hey. Thanks.”

Harvey opens his mouth, then hesitates before changing his mind. “Yeah, well,” he just says. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Mike fully intends to. He grins as he picks it up and takes his first bite, making an appreciative sound in the back of his throat. “And you say magic isn’t a good thing,” he mutters on his way out. “Then how the hell does it create something this amazing?”

He doesn’t stick around to hear Harvey’s no doubt witty remark, because he doesn’t really need to. He knows it’s mostly for show anyway.

He shakes his head, licking a bit of buttercream from his thumb. Definitely triple chocolate.

Sometimes, just sometimes, it’s almost easy to believe that Harvey loves him too.

*

Okay, so Harvey definitely loves him.

Mike has been watching him for a while now (in a non-creepy way), and while they may be subtle, the signs of his affection are there if you know where to look. And Mike prides himself on being something of an expert on the matter at this point.

The only question now is in what way he loves him.

It would be foolish to just assume that it’s… like that. Like Mike loves him. He can’t just go around believing he understands the full spectrum of Harvey Specter’s emotions, no matter how good he’s gotten at reading him these past few months. The man is still something of an enigma that Mike is fairly certain even he himself can’t fully grasp.

However, it would be equally of an oversight to not at least consider it.

Donna said it was a possibility, so it’s a possibility. And no, he’s not repeating that to himself at least five times a day just to feel that little flutter of excitement in his stomach. That would be pathetic.

There’s still no actual proof of the fact that Harvey is even interested in men, specifically him, but Mike is willing to take a leap of faith once he’s gathered enough signs pointing in that direction.

And boy, are there signs.

He was going to write off what Donna told him, honestly. Put a tight lid on the idea and store it somewhere he’d never have to look at it again because that way only lies madness, right?

But Mike has never been one for self-preservation. And every time he saw Harvey after that, he couldn’t help but look just a little closer. Pay just a little more attention.

He still can’t help it, because he’s been finding things, things that look suspiciously like the signs he’s been looking for, and Mike has tasted blood now. He wants more.

He _craves_ more, craves confirmation of the growing hope in his stomach, of the idea Donna has put into his head like an infection that’s spreading and spreading, impossible to get rid of.

And who knows, maybe he doesn’t have to.

The cupcake isn’t the only incident that has made Mike stop and wonder, not by far. It’s more subtle most of the time, he’ll give Harvey that. But it’s there if you know where to look.

It’s the warm breeze tousling Mike’s hair when he complains about having forgotten his scarf. It’s his cup of coffee refilling after Harvey stops at his desk, catching him preparing for an all-nighter. It’s his backpain – quite literally – magically disappearing after he tells him how long it’s been plaguing him. It’s the extra pinch of vanilla appearing on his pastry that he only realizes belatedly wasn’t there before.

He doesn’t even think Harvey is aware of it, and he lets him get away with it sometimes, but he always pays attention. He always makes sure to pick up on any oddities, and remember them.

Of course, he isn’t the only person at the office evoking that kind of response from Harvey. Donna gets extra whip on her coffee when she makes him laugh. Jessica’s hair flows in the warm breeze when she leans in to tell him something that’s meant for his ears only, the scent of oak and apples, something distinctly cozy and homely, reaching as far as to Mike’s desk. Even Louis gets a little magic sometimes, though he doubts either of them picks up on the fact.

However, none of them get it quite as often as Mike does.

So the evidence is more or less conclusive. Enough to convince him that there’s a very real possibility of Harvey feeling _something_ , at least. Something other than the platonic affection he harbors for the others in his select inner circle.

Now what to do about it?

It’s a tricky question, one that has Mike gnawing his lips for days on end and quite a few restless nights too. Because he’s not even sure if he _should_ do anything about it.

Harvey is… Harvey. He’s his boss, and that’s already complicated enough, but he’s his friend too. One of his closest, if not _the_ closest. He’s his partner in crime, literally, and he didn’t even realize how inextricably interwoven their lives had become until he was faced with the very real possibility of losing him.

Because if he read these signs wrong and makes a move that isn’t welcome, he has no doubt that he will. And even the thought of that is enough to make his heart pound and his chest feel too tight.

On the other hand, it’s _Harvey_. And if he didn’t misread the signs and his advances are actually welcome and appreciated, they could have something really, really good together.

Isn’t that worth the risk?

Even several days later, Mike hasn’t found an answer to that question, and so he eventually decides not to make a decision and just go with the flow, see what feels right in the moment.

See if he can gather his courage, if it does feel right.

“What has you looking that intense?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Mike blinks at Harvey leaning into his vision, doing his best not to look as caught as he feels.

“The… the case, of course.”

Harvey frowns. “Which one? I wasn’t aware you were working on anything that requires so much thinking.”

“It’s just this… thing,” he says lamely. “I was going over some numbers in my head. Doesn’t matter.”

Harvey narrows his eyes, but lets it slide. “Right. Anyway. How’s the rest of your afternoon? I was thinking we could finally go over those billings that have been stacking up on my desk for a week. And after that, I was thinking we could get out of here early for once. Grab some dinner.”

Mike blinks at him. “Dinner?”

“It’s the meal traditionally had at the end of the day, yes.”

He huffs, shaking his head. “Sounds good to me. What’s the occasion? You wanna celebrate getting those damn billings done?”

Harvey just shrugs, smiling. “It can’t be all work, no play. There’s this great new restaurant just a few blocks away that I’ve been meaning to take you to for ages. You’re gonna love it.”

Mike lifts his eyebrows.

“Are you asking me on a date?” he asks, his teasing tone slightly undermined by how breathless his voice sounds. He half expects Harvey to snort and make a dry remark, tell him off in a gentle but firm way, but to his surprise, he just keeps smiling.

“And what if I am? You got anything against being wined and dined?”

“No, no. Not at all. I do love that. Wining and dining. It’s great.”

Harvey nods. “Good food’s the way to your heart, I know. No surprise there.”

“Good food, and good drinks,” Mike agrees before adding, his mouth a little dry, “good company, too.”

Harvey makes an acknowledging sound. “You’re in luck then. Doesn’t get better than this.”

“No. It really doesn’t.”

When he dares to glance at Harvey, he’s looking back at him, his eyebrows raised a little, a smile that looks somewhat amused on his lips, but somewhat curious too, and Mike’s breath hitches when he meets his eyes.

Because this is it, isn’t it? The moment. The perfect moment, the one he’s been waiting for, the one that makes it not just right but perfectly natural, no, even necessary to make a move.

It would be so goddamn easy to do something, to just lean in and close the distance between them, to finally find out what Harvey’s lips feel like against his when they’re curved up into that easy, utterly irresistible smile.

Swallowing, Mike leans in the slightest bit before he can really think about it, his eyes flickering to Harvey’s mouth before returning to his eyes, framed by confused lines as he regards him, and…

Nope. He can’t do it.

“Sorry, do you mind if I just…” he gets out, leaning past Harvey in an exaggerated movement to reach the cup of coffee beside him.

He doesn’t meet his eyes when he draws back, his heart pounding like it’s trying to jump out of his ribcage as he grips the cup, berating himself for being foolish enough to attempt a move. For not being brave enough to go through with it.

Harvey doesn’t say anything, but regards him closely, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you okay? You’re a little pale around the nose there, kid.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m great. Never better. Are we gonna get started on those billings now or what?”

Harvey throws him a look, but nods. “Sure,” he just says. “Let’s get started. The sooner we get those done, the sooner we can get out of here.”

“Awesome,” Mike mutters under his breath, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn’t notice that it’s still hot, that it tastes much more of vanilla than before and much better too until the last drop, and by then he’s too focused on the files before him to really think about it.

*

So. Not making a move then.

That’s fine. It’s fine. Mike has no idea what he was thinking anyway. It’s way too dangerous to show his hand like that and risk driving Harvey away just because he couldn’t keep his feelings in check. Harvey would hate that, if he knew. He’s a big fan of keeping one’s feelings in check.

It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Mike is just going to keep them to himself and suffer in silence, and eventually, hopefully, they will pass. No big deal. No problem at all.

He used to be much better at lying to himself, but, well. Points for trying.

He used to be much better at hiding his feelings too, it seems, or Harvey has just gotten more observant recently, but either way, the outcome’s the same.

Every now and then – far too often for his taste – he finds Harvey’s eyes on him, lingering when they should long have moved on, narrowed like he’s deep in thought, trying to solve a particularly complex puzzle.

Mike hopes he never solves it, and not just because there’s a part of him that really, really wants Harvey to keep looking at him that way despite the fact that he knows he shouldn’t.

But rationality never had anything to do with this.

So he sucks it up, keeps his head held high and soldiers on, doing his best to dispel any suspicions Harvey might have and not feed the fire by doing anything to cause new ones. Easier said than done, but he’s managing, and anyway, practice makes perfect, right? Since these feelings clearly aren’t going anywhere, he seems to have all the time in the world to get better.

Not very encouraging, that, but it is what it is. No way out but through.

*

No way out but through is what the driver seems to be thinking when he veers off the street and straight onto the sidewalk.

Mike sees him coming, and so must Harvey right next to him, but he’s way too fast for either of them to do anything about it, to call out a warning or move away.

Everything decelerating to slow motion in moments like this is complete bullshit, of course, but that doesn’t mean the split second of the car driving directly towards them feels any less like an eternity.

Except it’s not coming towards _them_ , not entirely. It’s coming towards Harvey.

He’s trying to get out of the way, Mike can tell, and so is the driver, but he’s long lost control over the vehicle and Harvey is just not fast enough.

The sound of the crash is one that’s going to haunt Mike in his dreams. He didn’t think that’s what it was going to be, with the dozens of little details registering in his brain at once; how fast the car is, how horrified the driver looks, how Harvey reaches for his arm like he’s trying to push him out of the way when _he’s_ the one right at the center of its path, but for some reason that’s what he chooses to focus on as the scene shifts until he’s looking at Harvey on the ground and the car between them, finally having come to a stand.

“Fuck,” Harvey groans, and Mike has never been so relieved to hear his voice and yet so alarmed by it at the same time.

At least he’s not dead, as the string of curses he lets out proves, though they would have been more impressive if he hadn’t sounded so pained while saying them.

It’s enough to shake off the paralyzing horror that has taken hold of him, at least. Mike is by his side before he knows it, dropping to his knees without regard for the blood and dirt he’ll get on his suit or the hard surface sending sharp shocks of pain through him.

“Oh, fuck. Shit. Are you okay? Where are you hurt? Can you sit up? Hey!” he calls out to the driver, who has staggered out of the car and is staring at them in shock. “Don’t just stand there, call a fucking ambulance, asshole!”

“Mike, I’m fine,” Harvey tries to assure him, but he’s not having it.

“Bullshit. You’re not _fine_ , there’s blood everywhere and-“

“It’s not everywhere, it’s just my leg. It’s- ah. It’s fine. It’s not that bad.”

Looking down, he can confirm at least the first part of his statement. The blood is coming from a wound on his left leg, twisted at a weird angle that he’s scared to examine more closely. The worst of it is still concealed by his pants, but even so Mike can see that it doesn’t look good.

Still, first things first.

“You’re not hurt anywhere else? Did you hit your head?”

“I’m not, and I didn’t.”

“Okay. Okay. Just your leg then. That’s- still bad, but we’ll deal with it.”

“It looks worse than it is,” Harvey says, though his eyes linger on his leg in a distinctly worried way.

“How do you know that?” Mike snaps, fully aware that he’s approaching hysterical levels now, but he thinks he’s entitled to theatrics in a situation like this. “You’re not a fucking doctor, are you?”

“Mike, calm down. We can deal with this, okay? Like you said.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, not convinced in the slightest. “Okay, I’m gonna take a look. Hold still.”

“Not going anywhere,” Harvey mutters, any further comments being swallowed by the poorly concealed groan escaping him when Mike shifts his leg carefully and rolls up the fabric of his pants.

“Shit. That’s- god. Don’t look.”

“What is it? I can handle it.”

Mike refuses to get out of the way when Harvey cranes his head, the stubborn bastard. Can’t ever do as he’s told.

“I’m sure you can, but you shouldn’t have to, so just- don’t. It’s- your bone. It’s an open fracture.”

Feeling his stomach turning at the sight, Mike tears his eyes away to take a deep breath, fighting down the nausea to his best ability.

“That… doesn’t sound good. Doesn’t feel good, either.”

It’s the only admission of pain he has made so far, and Mike knows it means more than he wants to let on, which means that it’s time to get over his little breakdown. There are more important matters to tend to than his building panic attack right now.

“It’s fine. You’ll be fine.” He’s aware that he’s repeating the same things he tried to reassure him with not two minutes ago, and he knows Harvey knows it too, but he has to say _something_. “The ambulance is on its way. They’ll take care of that in no time. Just hold on, okay?”

“I don’t think I really have much of a choice,” Harvey mutters dryly, his attempt at humor admirable, even if he can’t appreciate it right now.

Peeking at the wound again, Mike winces.

“Shit. It’s bleeding a lot, but- I don’t wanna touch anything and risk making it worse. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to help you.”

Harvey cracks a smile.

“Should have become a fake doctor instead, huh?”

“Shut up. It’s not funny. I can’t help you, Harvey. I don’t know what to do.”

His voice trembles, and the smile slips from Harvey’s face as he accepts that he’s not getting through to him right now.

“You don’t need to do anything, Mike. We just have to sit this one out, okay?”

His voice is gentle, if a little breathless, and Mike allows it to lull him in and calm at least a fraction of his anxiety. It’s frustrating beyond words to know that Harvey is in pain and there is nothing he can do to make it go away or at least better, but he’s right, they just have to sit this one out. The driver has called an ambulance, and they must be on their way by now.

They just have to hold on until then.

“Also, you are helping,” Harvey adds, interrupting his thoughts. Mike’s eyes snap to his.

“You’re here with me,” he carries on at his look. “That’s- it’s good. I’m glad.” He swallows, his chest heaving. He must be in a lot of pain, to speak so freely about his emotions, because he goes as far as adding, “I’m glad you’re here.”

It is in that moment that Mike’s brain finally gives in to the immense stress he’s under and simply short-circuits. That’s the only explanation he can come up with for what he does next, at least, because he only stares at Harvey for the span of another heartbeat before he leans in and crushes their lips together.

He’ll blame it on the adrenaline later.

The noise he makes sounds about as startled as Mike feels, but there’s no time to think about any of this except the feeling of kissing Harvey, which, by the way, is really out of this world. It might be the circumstances, or it might be entirely down to who those lips he’s kissing belong to, but none of it matters because Harvey’s mouth yields beneath his, and he doesn’t push him away but rather kisses him back.

He’s actually kissing him back.

Mike is not sure what he thought would happen, but it certainly wasn’t this. But here they are all the same, on the goddamn ground with one of Harvey’s bones being somewhere it definitely shouldn’t be and a bunch of bystanders no doubt getting a kick out of this unexpectedly juicy development, but all of that fades to the background at the sensation of Harvey’s lips moving against his, as desperate as his own and just as insistent.

Overcome by the chemicals his pounding heart keeps pumping into his bloodstream, the fear and the ecstasy and the overwhelming amount of love he feels for this man, Mike loses himself in it entirely, not even thinking about going back for a second kiss, a third, until Harvey disrupts the rhythm when he sucks in a sharp breath and pulls back abruptly.

Startled, Mike blinks his eyes open, his brain kicking back in a second too late at the scene he is still presented with, lifechanging kisses notwithstanding.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Harvey surprisingly breathes out, looking equally flustered. “Rather the opposite, I think.”

Mike frowns, then follows his gaze when he looks at his leg and starts shifting.

“What are you- no, don’t move that-“

He stops short when he pulls up his pants and reveals a whole lot of blood smeared everywhere, but nothing else.

The wound has closed. It’s gone. In fact, it would almost look like it was never there at all if it hadn’t been for the ripped fabric and the angry red color that he’s sure he’s going to see every time he closes his eyes from now on.

It’s just gone.

“Oh my god.”

He reaches out on autopilot, careful not to hurt him, but Harvey doesn’t as much as flinch as he feels his leg, trying to find signs of a broken bone that is no longer there.

“Mike.”

“What the-“

“It’s gone. It just… healed.” Harvey stares at him as he shakes his head, trying to process what he’s seeing. “I think you healed me.”

Mike’s eyes snap up, and he stops short when he meets his, confused and startled and full of awe, of wonder.

“I didn’t…”

He trails off, never finding an ending to that sentence.

Because he did. He did heal Harvey.

It’s been known to happen, though only ever in extreme situations; parents sealing the fatal wounds of their children, soldiers closing the gunshot wounds of their mates, some people even restarting the heart of a loved one when it simply gave out.

It takes a certain force to do something like that.

Well, shit.

There go his plans to blame the adrenaline. There’s no denying what he feels for Harvey now, not anymore. Not after something like this. Hell, it’ll probably make it into the newspapers tomorrow and then the whole goddamn city will know just how in love Mike is with Harvey Specter.

He doesn’t care about the city knowing though. He only cares about Harvey.

“I… don’t know what to say,” he admits when he finally finds his voice, sitting back. “God. I guess that… happened.”

Eloquent.

Harvey’s throat bobs as he blinks at him. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Mike, are you… I mean, are you in love with me?”

Now it’s him cracking a smile. “Sure looks like it, doesn’t it?”

How he still has to ask after that kiss and that miracle, he has no idea, but he supposes it’s only fair to cut him some slack after the series of nasty shocks he’s just had.

Harvey searches his face, his brow furrowed, and Mike’s shoulders slump as he sighs.

“Yeah. I am. I guess that happened, too. At some point along the way.”

“Hm. Guess it did,” Harvey mutters, tearing his eyes from his face to inspect his leg again. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. I mean, I was beginning to suspect you had a little crush going on there, but… you must love me a _lot_.”

Mike would have laughed under different circumstances because really, it’s just like Harvey to put the finger in the wound and fish for compliments at the same time, but his voice is laced with such awe that he doesn’t feel like laughing at all.

He clears his throat, belatedly attempting to give off a calm and collected air like that’s still going to help him now.

“Guess I do.”

Looking back up, Harvey regards him intently, the weight of his gaze enough to get his heart pounding again. He wonders how much it can take in one day before it just gives out.

“I had no idea,” Harvey mutters eventually, shaking his head. His eyes never leave Mike’s face, his healed injury all but forgotten.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to. I thought you wouldn’t exactly appreciate your associate developing romantic feelings for you.”

A disbelieving chuckle escapes him. “Well, let me tell you, I do appreciate it. And not just because you- healed me. God. I can’t believe you did that.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t exactly planning on it,” Mike mutters. Then he narrows his eyes and, gathering his courage, asks, “Why, then?”

“What?”

“You said you appreciate it not just because of that. Why else?”

Harvey lifts his eyebrows.

“Oh, you need me to say it? I thought it was clear at this point. Because I love you too, obviously.”

“You- obviously? Nothing about this is obvious, Harvey, you can’t possibly expect me to- you know what? Never mind that. You… love me. You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, I sure am,” Harvey agrees gently, like it is indeed the most obvious thing in the world.

Mike drops back when his knees finally give out. “What the fuck,” he says flatly.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m not the one who just got hit by a fucking car.”

“Yeah, but even if you were, it’s not so bad. Not like this.”

“Oh my god. You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re clearly into it, so I won’t hear another word about it.”

Mike huffs out a laugh that feels strange in his throat, foreign and inappropriate and yet entirely inevitable.

“This is crazy,” he informs him. “Just absolutely batshit. Completely insane.”

Harvey only shrugs. “Not that crazy when you think about it. Only when you realize how utterly oblivious both of us have been, apparently.”

“Yeah. Donna’s gonna have a blast when she hears about this,” Mike mutters, then shakes himself. “So. I love you, you love me, I just performed a minor miracle… what happens now?”

“I don’t know. We should probably ask that guy to call 911 again and tell them we’re fine.”

“Not what I meant, and that’s definitely not happening, so you can get that idea out of your head right now. We’re getting you checked through properly, head to toe.”

“What, you don’t trust your magic? Don’t love me that much after all, huh?”

Mike shoots him a look at his smirk. “You just want to hear me say it again, dickhead.”

“Well, is it gonna work?”

“Unbelievable,” Mike mutters, and then he grabs Harvey’s face with both hands and pulls him in for another kiss, the disbelief welling up in him at the fact that he just gets to do this now never ceasing, even when Harvey kisses him back right away.

“I really, really fucking love you,” Mike says against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak before going in for another. He’s distantly aware of the crowd that has accumulated around them, not few of the people having witnessed the whole thing and captured good parts of it on camera, this one included, but he really couldn’t care less about it right now.

He’s kissing Harvey. Harvey, who loves him too, who is _in_ love with him. There couldn’t be anything more important than that.

Smiling, Harvey breaks the kiss to say, “I love you too. And as for what happens now, we’re gonna get me checked through from head to toe as per your insistence, and after that… we’re going to figure it out.”

Mike searches his face, licking his lips before he nods when he finds nothing but reassurance there.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. That sounds good. Great, actually.”

“I’ll say.”

Regarding him, Mike lifts his eyebrows.

“You know, I kind of got the impression that you aren’t exactly a fan of- this. Magic. Love.”

“As a general concept? Not particularly. You know my feelings on the matter. When you’re involved, however…”

Mike hums, biting his lip to conceal his smile. “Think you’re willing to make an exception?”

“I mean, since you’ve been pretty much the exception to all of my rules from the day I met you… I suppose one more isn’t going to do any harm.”

“No, I don’t think it will,” Mike agrees, and the smile on Harvey’s face mirroring his own is bright enough to light up the entire city.

The newspapers are going to speak of this as a miracle tomorrow, as will the countless tweets and social media posts that have undoubtedly already gone up and viral, but Mike knows better than that, knows that the healing of Harvey’s wounds isn’t what stands out about this, what’s going to stick with him, going forward.

At some point along the way, he fell in love with his boss, who also happens to be his best friend and his partner in crime, and for all the time he spent thinking that it was hopeless, that he could never make a move, it turns out that he feels the exact same way about him.

And that, that’s the real magic right there.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! Thanks for sticking with me for another year of Marvey fics. :)
> 
> This fic is unbeta'd and (as per usual) English isn't my native language, so feel free to point out any mistakes! If you enjoyed it or just want to tell me something, I love getting comments and I'd love to hear from you! <3


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